


Tea Ceremony

by tinkerheck



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkerheck/pseuds/tinkerheck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How far will Chizuru go to save them?<br/>Not an AU, more like a "What if?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Hakuouki Shinsengumi Kitan and all its related media belong to the Goddess of Bishie Art, Yana Toboso, and to Idea Factory, Sony, Studio DEEN, and Aksys Games. This is a work of Fan Fiction. No infringement intended. I spent money to learn about them, I earn no money in borrowing them.
> 
> +++++++
> 
> This is not an AU. It’s more like a ‘what if?’ It is rooted in the first season of the anime with a bit of the original game tossed in. Chizuru is, technically, OOC – but only when no one is looking.  
> Rated PG for discussion of mature things – I trust you all know exactly what that implies. That being said, if you are too young to read such things, CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED AND TURN BACK.  
> NOTE: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If you are a Chizuru hater, turn back now. I am very fond of her and there will be no bashing.  
> BTW, yes, I drink Sencha Kyoto; that’s what gave me the idea for this fic. If you have little experience with green tea, I do not suggest you start with that particular one. The flavor is such that you have to work your way up to it.  
> +++++++

 

+

 

**tea ceremony**

 

+

 

 

These eleven men.

Hijikata.

Okita and Saito. Harada, Nagakura and Heisuke.

Sannan-San. Kondou. Shimada, Inoue-San and Yamazaki.

They are all heroes. Champions of the people.

Samurai.

They’d laugh at me for that last one, of course.

_‘Samurai? Hah! Not **us** , Chizuru-Chan. No way! We’re just a bunch of rowdy swordsmen trying to find some meaning in our miserable lives…’_

But they are Samurai, all of them. They possess all the things that matter in being a Samurai.

And they’d made a noble sacrifice. A stupid one, perhaps, in the eyes of some… but I’d argue that point.

It _was_ noble.

_“Altogether now,”_ Hijikata had said.

My beloved Toshi - I’d never call him that to his face, mind you - he’s someone who has stirred new things inside me, someone I have come to _want_ , and very badly. I hesitate to tell him that, as well, because he’d either brush it off or be embarrassed by it.

That’s just him.

_“Altogether now, men,”_ he’d said. _“We’re gonna do this as a whole or not at all!”_

That was almost a year ago, shortly after they’d ‘rescued’ me. I’d sat, hidden and silent like the Oni I can be, and I watched as they stood in a circle and tipped back the bottles, in unison, to their beautiful human mouths. One bottle to each man.

I watched as they swallowed the ruby-colored contents completely. I watched as they screamed in agony. Saying and doing _nothing_ because it is not my place to tell _them_ what to do, I watched as they fell to the floor, writhed, and then rose to approach madness.

And I watched, amazed and happy, as they _overcame it._

These eleven men, after all, were the Shinsengumi. There were no others who could have done what they did and survived it so completely. Whether it happened because they had gone down that road together, or because they were each just that much better than most men, it still _happened_. I was beside myself with joy, knowing they had conquered that awful poison.

There were side effects, though, and I had to watch over them now. I had to be diligent. There was a war coming and I would not allow _father’s_ ambitions to destroy Mibu’s Wolves… because I loved them. Every last one of them.

They thought I hadn’t seen them swallow the Ochimizu. They thought I didn’t _know_ what they were about to do their bodies. To their minds… and souls.

But, I _did_ know. ‘Father’ – _Kodo, you asshole –_ he’d told me what it was. He’d told me how he was going to create it by using my blood, the blood of a demon.

_Father? I’m Oni?_

That was news to me…

He told me to be brave, then he cut me – albeit gently - and drained the wound, and then he bandaged and kissed my boo-boo - _which had already healed, you moron -_ and pat my head and smiled… Then he went back into his laboratory and that was that.

Hey, don’t look at me like that. _I_ didn’t make the damn potion. And I was _eight_. I had no idea what the implications were. I found out, though – when those _others_ came calling several years later.

There were three of them, all very odd-looking. All Oni.

The tallest one was also the quietest. He bowed to me. He called me _hime._ He had scared me, just from appearance… but I didn’t mind him so much, because he had been polite and even managed to give me a small, sad smile.

The dark-haired one with the body paint was mouthy – arrogant and cocky. Right from the start I didn’t like him. I thought he was useless, and that cowardly gun he carried only helped to prove me right. I’d like to see him go up against any one of my Wolves without that damn gun. Demon or not, he’d lose. He’d wet himself first, then he’d lose. I’m sure of it.

Now, the tall blond one… he was a different story. ‘Father’ spoke only to him, and they talked a lot. He had looked down at me with a perverse gleam in his cruel eyes. I was young and inexperienced, but I could tell he was looking at me with lust in his heart.

I was told, after they’d left, that I was promised to be the blond one’s bride, and oh isn’t it wonderful? The thought turned my stomach.

Then, some months later, ‘father’ announced he was going away to the city for a time, and I would have to look after myself while he was gone. I pretended to care.

In actuality, I raided his lab and devoured every diary, note and piece of research I could find right after he left.

The Oni clans, or at least parts of them, wanted to take over Japan. They had no regard for human life, and they intended to create artificial demons out of them, using the _Ochimizu_ , the potion father had created. They would be able to control them, and prolong their lives, yes, through the ingestion of the blood of a pure Oni – _me! –_ but that was just a precaution.

Really, they would just be used as tools. Once humans had begun their war, the war that everyone knew was on the horizon, demonkind would throw their society into chaos by letting loose the fakes – the _Rasetsu_ , he’d called them – upon the humans. Then, when the humans were at their most vulnerable, the Oni clans would swoop in and take over.

All they needed was a group of humans to experiment on.

Well, they’d found one. I read in Kodo’s diary where he had gone, which human groups he had bargained with, and how he had already begun his experiments.

I found the entire idea cruel and distasteful. And I knew I had to do something about it before it was too late.

‘Too late’ being the operative words – it already _was_ too late for many. But I could at least do something for a few of them. Maybe not reverse the effects of the Ochimizu – I knew that, once swallowed, going back was impossible. But since my own blood was the very best way to mollify the side effects, I could at least help their victims to live longer. I could help them hold on to their sanity.

So I dressed up like a boy and made my way to Kyoto.

Right off the bat, I attracted the worst sort of attention, and wound up getting chased by a couple of ronin. Now, admittedly, I’m not much of a fighter. I’m a demon, yeah, but I’m a _girl_ , and I truly don’t care for violence. So as these two ronin were about to chop me into little pieces, I thought my luck had totally run out - until _they_ wound up being cornered by the Shinsengumi. And not just any Shinsengumi, but a couple of out-of-control Rasetsu.

I got to see up close and personal what my ‘father’ had given birth to.

In any case, the real Wolves of Mibu saved my life and took me home with them like a little souvenir. When they found out I was Kodo’s ‘daughter’, they became threatening towards me, but also more interested. They let me stay, said they’d protect me.

If they had any real plans to use me to find Kodo, they soon forgot them. They just weren’t the type, because, as I have said, whether they believe it or not, they _are_ Samurai. They are _honorable._

Then Japan’s political arena started heating up and things changed for them very quickly – they were smart men, and could see the tide turning. War was inevitable. Guns and cannons would defeat katana and spear.

But they were swordsmen who loved their way of life, and they wanted a cause to fight for, one that was meaningful. So they decided to drink the Ochimizu and become Rasetsu, and fight for the shogunate, to the death.

Well, I wasn’t having any of that. They could fight all they wanted, sure, but not to the death. As Rasetsu, if unchecked, they’d happily use up their lives for that damn cause and turn to dust before their time. But if I helped them… If they lived long enough, sooner or later they’d see that this war was completely indifferent to their honor, and then, maybe, we could all go away somewhere. Together. Keep being the Shinsengumi. Keep living lives of _meaning_.

I was good at being demure and playing the part of the unknowing, unwitting, defenseless little girl. I even overheard Okita himself say that I didn’t have the brains to cook up a scheme like infiltrating the Shinsengumi. Since I was probably an idiot I wasn’t a threat to them and besides I was cute, so… why bother killing me?

Yeah. I adore you, Okita. But sometimes… well, you can go fuck yourself.

I took advantage of the way in which they viewed me, especially after I saw that they were all hell-bound to make themselves as invulnerable as possible for that _damn cause,_ and became Rasetsu accordingly. There was no way I could have stopped them.

_I’m_ the idiot? Enma’s teeth… At least I know better than to swallow something like _that_ , thank you very much.

The Shinsengumi took me in. They have come to trust me, appreciate me. They are fond of me, as I am fond of them. I run errands for them. I cook their meals. I stitch up their wounds – or, at least, I _did_ , before they drank the Ochimizu. I deliver messages, buy their groceries, do their laundry - and I _never_ ask about the bloodstains on their uniforms. I know exactly why they are there.

Oh.

And I make their tea.

Every day, three times a day, without fail.

Did I mention that Kyoto has the most remarkable Sencha ever? It has a potent, meaty flavor for a green tea, going well with main dishes. Men seem to love it. My Wolves adore it. Especially the way _I_ make it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Sometime shortly after I became ensconced with the Shinsengumi, Hijikata’s ‘sewing needle’ – and I use the term loosely - went missing. And when I saw Nagakura headed for one of the back rooms with a replacement needle and a candle, I played dumb yet again, knowing full well what sort of methods their interrogations consisted of.

But in reality I knew where Toshi’s favorite needle was, because I was the one who stole it. I have to have something _discreet_ to do my most important job, after all.

I arrange the cups on the serving tray carefully. Fortunately, my Wolves sit in the same place every time they gather for food or a meeting.

Kondou, a man who is bit baffled by how things have changed but a kind leader and a very, _very_ good person, he gets two. Same goes for Nagakura, Harada, and Heisuke. Honestly, they are all remarkably healthy men and they don’t need anymore that that. Brothers to me, all of them, and I love them.

I also only give a couple to Saito. He is very skilled, and very proud, and he’d be absolutely devastated if he knew _I_ was helping _him_ anymore than that. He was the first Shinsengumi to take the life of another to save me. I love him.

Shimada and Yamazaki are constantly risking their lives doing dirty work for Hijikata – and always without complaint. They get three. They are often ordered to follow me around as protectors, but they think I don’t know it. I love them.

Inoue, who is like a father to me, a _real_ father, not the madman who raised me – he is a bit older. He gets five. I always wanted a father. I love him.

Sannan-San is perplexing to me, and frightening. But I do respect his intelligence. I am suspicious that he knows my blood can help the Rasetsu, and I can tell his emotions are troubled by all that he has learned, so he gets six. I don’t know if I actually _like_ him, but I do love him.

Okita. _Fucking Okita Souji._ Charmer. Protector. Killer. A genius with the katana, and hopelessly derisive with his acid tongue. I really do love him. If it wasn’t for the gooey way in which Hijikata makes me feel, I’d have gotten suckered into Okita’s futon a long time ago with no regrets. He calls me Chiziru-Chan one minute, then he threatens to kill me the next, and I pretend like I take it seriously, which seems to please him. During that unfortunate time when that disgusting, backstabbing creep Itou Kashitarou was in our ranks, it was Okita that stopped him from getting too close to me one night. I don’t know what Itou was going to try and pull, but Okita was the only one that noticed how uncomfortable the man made me.

Okita has tuberculosis, and the thought of losing him to it scares me to death. He gets eight.

There’s the last cup. It is for Hijikata Toshizo, the Shinsengumi’s “Demon Commander”. Tall, dark, and handsome. Their true leader, despite Kondou’s position. He’s constantly complaining to me how much they _do not_ need me, and how easy it would be to kill me if I betrayed them. He also knows I never will. He’s uptight, ferocious, and exceptionally skilled with that blade of his. He has gone out of his way to keep me safe. He insists that it’s because he has a code to follow, but I know there is more to it than that.

Him, I have plans for. He needs to live a long, _long_ life, because…

I’m _in love_ with him.

I take Hijikata’s missing sewing needle and I prick my fingertip, yet _again_ , because the wound always goes and heals up before I can get too many drops out.

Hijikata’s cup. Ten drops of my pure Oni blood. I watch as each one falls, melting into that fabulous, steaming hot Sencha Kyoto. A green tea so strong that they never, ever taste what I put in it.

Every day, three times a day, without fail.

I have to hurry now, before it gets too cold for my Wolves. Okita always bitches about the tea if it doesn’t scald the roof of his mouth. The little brat.

 

 

 

~fin


End file.
